Innocence project
by InPerfectSilence
Summary: Innocence: free from sin or moral wrong. It used to be a trend in Myojo city, to follow a life of heroism or villainy. These days, everything's corrupted beyond repair, criminals rule the streets, and an assassin named Tokaku is pulled into a conflict that she should never have taken part in. Maybe she really is a hero, after all. (Superhero AU)


**Innocence.**

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><p>Another morning, another day. There was absolutely nothing about this day that could be more special than the rest. So Tokaku woke up, expecting nothing worse and nothing better.<p>

The sun hadn't risen yet. In the back of her mind, there was still the lingering, lonely sound of a familiar voice, but the words still escaped her. It was her mother's voice, which was a very odd thing, because Tokaku had forgotten her mother years ago.

Tokaku let some light into her room – no use traipsing around in the dark, after all, and it would help her wake up, even if the only light available was the slightest sliver of golden sunlight peeking over the horizon. If she stood and waited, she knew she would see the stars slowly start to fade, dissolving into the growing brightness.

But she hadn't the time to waste on such frivolous things. Time was a liberty only the foolish could claim.

As Tokaku turned, she almost missed the faintest streak of a falling star flash across the night sky, and if she had been anyone else she might have marvelled over the rare and beautiful sight.

Tokaku wasn't anyone else.

"Tokaku."

She had never been like anyone else.

"Yes, grandmother."

She would never be like anyone else.

"A minute late, child. Did you wake up late?"

"Yes, grandmother."

She was Azuma Tokaku, and she was a killer.

* * *

><p>Monday. First day of the week. Five past eight in the morning. The bustling market.<p>

It wasn't that Tokaku particularly liked people – rather, she hated company. Luckily, it seemed the feeling was mutual between her and the crowd which so graciously parted before her gloomy, hands-in-pockets demeanour.

Six past eight. A small curry shop. The same as always. 700 yen.

"It was cheaper yesterday."

"Sorry, miss, but business is gettin' tough with, well, _you know_."

Tokaku sat down at the shadiest, most isolated table she could, cradling her curry with the hand that wasn't completely wrapped in gauze. She did know. Even if she was not like other people, she wasn't completely out of the loop. That said, she had no regards for the affairs of the populace, and her disdain was especially present for those troublemakers the city called "heroes". The Red Fist, was it?

What a dumb name.

Tokaku had a minute spare to relish in the warmth of the bowl that cold Monday morning. So she did. It wasn't relaxation. Her eyes still constantly scanned the small shop as she ate, her posture belying her attentiveness. Nobody bothered her, as expected. With eyes glaring daggers, how could anyone even think of approaching?

Ten past eight. The marketplace was starting to really fill up now, and Tokaku took her leave from her quiet little curry shop, leaving behind an empty bowl and a small wad of cash.

A constant murmur. People pushing past. Hands in pockets.

Tokaku trudged through the very middle of the square, effortlessly avoiding physical contact with anyone. She wasn't like them. There was no need to touch them. There was no need to look at them.

It was unnerving and startling when something tapped her on the shoulder.

Tokaku spun around and glared with such violence that the recipient of the glare actually staggered backwards. Her mouth was open to retort, but then she opened her eyes.

It was a girl about the same age, but considerably shorter, frailer, more timid. Her hair was tied up in a juvenile way on either side of her head, and her eyes were wide, not unlike a deer in headlights. In her hands was an unfamiliar wallet.

"E-excuse me," said the girl, fiddling with the wallet, "I think you left this behind."

No, Tokaku thought, she'd never seen the thing in her life. But, to humour this girl, Tokaku took the wallet from her porcelain hands and examined it once, twice. There was no way Tokaku would ever purchase anything this bright and full of cards.

"It's not mine." She said, briskly, handing back the wallet.

"Do you know whose it is?" The girl asked. Tokaku shrugged, but apparently this didn't get the message across.

"No idea." Tokaku snapped back. "Do you always annoy strangers like this?"

The girl bowed in a hurry. This was getting downhill very quickly. "I'm sorry! My name is Ichinose Haru, and I've actually seen… you…" Haru froze, and snapped up like an elastic band. "That is, Haru doesn't know who you are, but I've seen you before…?"

For a long moment, Tokaku frowned and stared Haru down. Was this girl serious? Was she asking for her name?

"Tch."

"W-wait, but I don't know your name!"

Tokaku kept walking, and soon Haru was far behind her. There was no need to introduce herself to someone she'd never meet again.

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><p>Two past nine. Night time. City lights.<p>

Tokaku was headed home, after a hard day of work. She wasn't alone in the street, as such, but for some reason her side of the sidewalk was clear. Perhaps it was the dead-eyed look she wore all the time. Perhaps it was how she cradled a bandaged hand to her side. Perhaps it was the daggers she shot from her eyes at anyone who dared to look at her.

The stars were out again, and they in turn stared down. The half-moon looked like a smile, cutting the sky like a knife. Real knives knocked against her ankle and her elbow as she walked, carefully concealed by her civilian clothing.

With a sigh, Tokaku kept walking, one foot in front of the other, following the cracks in the pavement. The street was dead silent, now, and Tokaku couldn't help but wonder why. And then she turned the corner.

The next street, and a main road, at that, was in absolute disarray. It was taped off, of course, but Tokaku couldn't see any construction workers or police nearby. Not that she'd have expected it. Recently, the city's task forces had been somewhat less than average.

Upon closer inspection, she could see why.

There was a massive impact crater in the middle of the road, and several cars had been upturned or broken, by the looks of things. There was still a tyre left on the pavement, though the car it belonged to was nowhere to be seen. The collateral damage this time, while astonishingly destructive, wasn't actually as bad as Tokaku would have thought from the way the radio station made it seem. Only one window was damaged, actually. Though the misplaced girder was peculiar.

"Hullo!"

Fantastic.

"Who's there?" Tokaku called out, hands still in pockets but hawkish eyes peering into the night. She was greeted with a girl in baggy worker's clothes, no doubt a construction worker, although she looked a little young to be in such a job.

"Sorry, sorry," the girl laughed, holding up two hands, and Tokaku felt her teeth grit. "I didn't mean to startle you. You do realise this is closed off, right…?"

"So I gathered." Tokaku released a pent up breath. She counted to three, and inhaled, turning to face this newcomer. "What about you, surely you knew."

"I'm working here!" She answered, then scratched her neck bashfully. "Well, I'm supposed to be. But the police hadn't finished investigating yet so I… Y'know, I waited here just in case, but it looks like they never did finish, huh?"

The girl punctuated it with a laugh, but it sounded off. Almost hesitant. Tokaku was no lie detector, but there was something not quite right with the girl's story.

"You waited all day."

"… I guess I did, huh. I lose track of time pretty easily." The girl grinned, but there was unspoken challenge in her eyes. They glowed with something indiscernible, like two yellow coals in a wolfish face. Tokaku was reminded of watching a wild animal circle its prey.

Only Tokaku wasn't prey by any means.

"Maybe you should get a watch." She said coolly. With a narrowed gaze, Tokaku turned and stalked back the way she had come, and until she had turned the corner she felt two yellow holes bore into her back.

What a strange girl.

Tokaku shook her head. With any luck, at least, she comforted herself with the knowledge she'd never see the yellow coal-eyes girl again.

However, as she turned left and contemplated how she was to get home the long way, she saw a shockingly familiar face, and it was smiling. And her hair was tied in two twin-tails. Ichinose Haru.

"Ichinose…" The name came out unbidden, and Tokaku wasn't the only one shocked at the sound. Haru also turned around, her face twisting in confusion before brightening up. It was a very strange transition of emotion.

"Oh, it's the girl from earlier! Sorry for bothering you, if that's what you're worried about…" Haru fiddled with the hem of her skirt and it took all of Tokaku's willpower not to slap her hands away, and maybe her face too, while she was at it.

"I'm not." Tokaku said gruffly. Hands in pockets, she continued her journey home. Haru seemed to take this as an invitation, because she trotted alongside like a small child. It was irritating to say the least. Why was Ichinose smiling so, and what did she do to deserve the privilege?

They reached the corner and Tokaku finally decided to speak up. "Why are you following me?" She asked.

"You didn't tell Haru your name earlier," Haru explained, a bit too brightly, "and I'm also a little bit lost now that the street is blocked off."

"Too bad."

A streetlamp shuddered in the quiet night. The light flickered. In the distance, rubber burned on asphalt. Rows of houses, apartments and cafés lined the empty street, and everything seemed closed. Things closed earlier these days, Tokaku mused, and her foot fell into a light puddle from the rain before, which hadn't quite dried up yet.

"Do you live around here…?" A tentative question. Haru received a noncommittal grunt. She seemed unsatisfied with this answer, and prompted Tokaku to elaborate. Miraculously, she did.

"Yes." She said, with a little scuff of her shoe. Then: "Nearby. I don't normally take this route."

"Neither." Haru added helpfully. Her arms bounced with her steps. Unnecessary movement, and it made Tokaku inwardly cringe. She would be so helpless, in a fight.

Not that Tokaku cared. She wasn't like anyone else, she didn't have to care for anyone else, that's the way she was brought up and the way she was convinced she would be.

"Say," Haru went on, blissfully unaware that Tokaku gently put a hand on her sleeve, feeling for a knife, "do you think you can tell me your name now-"

She never got to finish that sentence.

From the shadows, in a dark alleyway Tokaku had kept her eye on since they rounded the last corner, a figure leapt out. Taller, they were much taller than Tokaku. Heavier, too. No doubt he was some self-endorsed thug taking advantage of the turmoil in the city, just like so many others.

He wasted no time in talking, and Tokaku was happy with that. Or, as happy as she could be, facing off against a large opponent like this. Thankfully, large opponents were often slower, clumsier, in more ways than one.

The man struck first, but instead of hitting flesh, his knife hit steel. The sound reverberated and Haru jumped out of her skin at the suddenness of it all. There Tokaku stood, her own knife in hand, pushing against a man with his own, much larger, much deadlier knife.

No doubt he thought he had it easy.

Underestimating one of the Azuma clan is a foolish thing to do, and everyone planning on going up against one in battle should take note.

Under the starlight, and with only the warm, dim light of a streetlamp, two fighters faced off. Haru looked on, in shock, horror, or curiosity, maybe.

"Bitch bites." The thug spat, bringing their faces together. There was a drunken, foolhardy haze about him and Tokaku smelled brandy on his breath. An easy fight. He roared and threw her to the ground, aiming a kick which never landed. Tokaku was on her feet before his hit the ground, and slashed with her knife against his thigh as she rose. Now his roars turned into screams of pain.

He wasn't done yet.

His next cry was an unintelligible mess of syllables, but his intent was clear: He wanted Tokaku dead.

Not today. With a victorious smirk, Tokaku deflected his wildly slashing blade, sidestepped to his rear and latched onto his neck before he could straighten up. She wasn't strong, by any means, but he was drunk and she knew how to suffocate a man.

She was seconds away from victory, and Haru was nowhere to be seen. A distraction. A single, momentary distraction, and then the thug suddenly had the upper hand. His neck slipped from her grasp and his other fist pounded at her face – the only thing stopping her jaw from breaking was her already bandaged hand, instinctively rising to protect her face. Lucky her instincts were so trained. Lucky her hands could move faster than her brain could think, or she'd be likely dead by now.

Unfortunately, the move left her hand in worse condition than before. Searing pain shot up her whole arm and threatened to blur her vision.

"Whassamatter? Girl's too weak ta take a widdle punch?" He was taunting her, and the moonlight framed his ugly face as he closed in for another strike which Tokaku could only hope to dodge.

"Back it up, and I'll show you a real punch!"

A new voice. A familiar voice. Tokaku mentally ran through a list of voices she'd heard recently, and came to one conclusion as soon as wild red hair and yellow coal-eyes stepped into the light.

Great. Construction girl.

"Whozzat?" The thug said, idiotically turning his head from his previous target. Tokaku was very, very tempted to slit his throat while he was unprepared, but she was also very curious as to what this newcomer would do. After all, nobody would pull off that kind of bravado without some fighting prowess.

The two eyes met, for a moment, and they sized each other down, both profiling the other for a later date. And in that split second, the guy decided he'd had enough and charged.

His first punch hit the metal pole with a cringe-worthy snap. Something broke and Tokaku doubted it was the pole.

His second hit was more successful. A backhanded slap, to the girl's ear, and though she staggered, Tokaku didn't miss the smirk on her face, the way her feet never lost their footing on the ground, the way her hand balled into a fist at her side.

With speed and power Tokaku had almost expected from that glint in her eye, the girl's fist sprung forward like a cannon and knocked the thug clean off his feet. There was an audible gasp as the air left his lungs, and a rather loud crack as he landed against the wall. Then it was completely still once more.

Tokaku never felt fear, or even admiration, but there was a certain air of wariness about her after that display. The girl with the fiery mane of hair simply leaned against the pole as if this was every day business, pulled out a stick of pocky, and stuck it in her mouth. As the throbbing pain in Tokaku's hand registered, so did the fact that this girl had, so far, only used her right hand.

"You're right handed."

"Maybe," Was the reply, through a mouthful of pocky, "maybe not. I take it you are-?"

"Maybe." Tokaku repeated in an effort to phase her. It didn't work. Instead, construction girl just gestured for someone out of line of sight to come forwards.

"Yo, dude, it's all good now." She said, back in that slack tone Tokaku heard earlier. Her eyes remained dead dull even when Haru came tiptoeing from behind a dumpster.

"A-are you alright-"

"I'm fine." Tokaku lied, cradling her hand. Her right hand, her good hand, her knife hand. How would she explain this to her grandmother? "But who are you?"

Construction girl looked at her and those coals seemed to ignite under the starlight.

"Sagae Haruki, actually. Nice to meet you, dude. Maybe we'll see each other round?"

"Doubt it."

"See you soon, Haruki-san!"

Haru looked back with that smile and Tokaku paused, before grabbing her by the wrist and clearing the area as fast as she could. The thug, still dazed, was left alone until the morning, where he was found with several broken bones and a very bruised pride. Witness accounts from what little police investigation there was came to the conclusion that this was the work of one of the supers, as they confessed with hesitance that they'd closed over the blinds once they heard the sounds of a fight, and never once laid eyes on the perpetrator.

And normalcy returned once more.

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><p><em>"Breaking news! It appears Myojo City is in for a heck of a time, with not three, but four supers now staking claim over the city! But will this newcomer, the Red Fist, be able to keep afloat? After all, these supers are not known for their compassion! And will the newcomer be a hero, or a villain? Keep your ears and eyes peeled, folks - and keep your eye on channel three, the only news channel that's ahead of the action!"<em>

Cut.

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><p><strong>AN: A fic that's been in the making for a while, this one. I won't say too much on it for anyone not up to date but it's a superhero au.<br>Updates will hopefully be somewhat frequent, maybe every one or two weeks depending. I have some pretty big plans for this story, so let's hope I can stay motivated enough to finish it?**

**Thanks for reading, anyway.**


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